


Not for a Lack of Sweetness

by Caledfwlch (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aroace Nat, Aromantic Character, Asexual Awareness Week, Asexual Bucky Barnes, Asexual Character, Gen, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Post-Winter Soldier, aroace character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 03:39:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5076346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Caledfwlch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Natasha have a chat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not for a Lack of Sweetness

**Author's Note:**

> *shows up to aaw at the last minute with starbucks* shit forgot i was ace for a second
> 
> [warnings: food (kind of), sex vaguely alluded to but nothing graphic at all, mention of bucky shooting nat pre-catws]

“Do you want tea or coffee?”

“Neither.” Bucky drummed his lefthand fingers on the kitchen table, focusing on the light tapping sound.

Natasha quirked her brow. “I have decaf.”

Bucky sucked his cheek. “I’m not a tea person.”

“Coffee it is, then.” A layer of steam rose as Nat poured dark coffee into two plain mugs. She stirred in milk and sugar with quick fingers.

Bucky swallowed. Steve must have told her that he liked it sweet.

Natasha sipped from both mugs before sitting and pushing one across to Bucky. “Here. Drink.”

As Bucky took careful sips, he gave the room yet another examination. It was white-walled and oddly clean, a backpack propped against the TV. High-up, he could see the New York skyline out of the window. It gave his heart a funny sort of inside-out feeling. He blinked away.

“It’s good to have you on the team.” Natasha spoke quietly and plainly. She wore a gray hoodie zipped all the way up, elegantly beautiful in a careless sort of way— almost apologetic. Looking at her un-penciled eyes, Bucky almost thought her honest. “Steve tells me you’re a very capable man.”

“He also tells me I shot you.” He curled both hands around the mug: silver on pink.

Natasha’s head tilted. “He wasn’t wrong.”

“But you’re letting me into your apartment.” Bucky half-smiled, a bitter taste in his mouth. “You made me coffee.”

Natasha ran her fingertip along the rim of her cup. “Steve also tells me you’re different now,” she said.

“And do you believe him?”

She blinked. “In the past, when I’ve trusted Steve, I haven’t regretted it.”

Bucky bit his lip. He let his hair fall over his face.

“So.” Her voice was curt now, more business-like. “Steve said that there was something you should talk to me about. Has there been trouble with the rest of the team? Stark?”

Bucky shook his head.

She sipped her coffee. “Mmm. Do you know what it is, then?”

“No idea,” he answered honestly.

“That makes the two of us, then,” Nat sighed. She leaned forward just slightly. One of her rust-red curls fell over her shoulder. “You two have any deep discussions lately?”

Bucky almost laughed. “More than I can count.”

“Emotional guy, isn’t he, Rogers?”

He smiled. “Yeah.” He’d always been forth-coming, sometimes brutally. “How much…” Bucky swallowed. “How much do you know about Steve and me?”

“Enough, I think.” Natasha’s mouth softened a little around the edges. A little coil in Bucky’s chest unwound. “He shows more than he tells me.”

Bucky guessed they’d both gotten quieter with age.

“Does it have to do with that?”

“Maybe. I don't know.” He licked his lips. “We’ve been talking a lot, lately. About what things were like.”

“Brooklyn, right?” Her ice-blue gaze was searching, gentle. He knew what she was doing. But the thought of talking made him feel warmer.

“Yeah. Things weren’t easy, now,” he said. He looked back out to the skyline. “I don’t want you thinkin’ that. But Steve and me…” He shook his head. “I mean, we were there. He was always there.” The memories had been coming back more quickly now, and while Bucky didn’t always remember everything, he always felt warmth at the thought of Steve. Everything was golden yellow.

“That sounds like him.”

“Yeah.” Bucky scratched at his neck. “I mean… he’s… he’s a special guy, y’know?”

“Yes.” Nat’s voice cracked a little. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Sometimes, I think I do.”

He looked up, looked her in the eyes. “It doesn’t mean I loved him any less, you know. It doesn’t mean— just because….”

She returned his gaze. Head lifted, he could see the milky white slope of her neck. A common tactic, one to make him feel trusted. “Because…?” she murmured.

He looked away. “Look, I dunno how to tell ya.” He took a harsh, hot gulp. His chest was twisting up in knots. _Steve trusts her_ , he reminded himself. _He wouldn’t have left you alone with her if he didn’t. I don't think._ “It’s not that I didn’t love him. I love him like… I love him like hell, okay?” His throat was gritty. “Just, sometimes…”

“What is it?”

“That was it. I mean, that was all it was, and that was all it was for a long time. Is there… is there something I’m missing?” He couldn’t stop himself from talking now, his insides flipping and raw. “‘Sridiculous, I know that. It’s not that he wasn’t a handsome enough guy. And I tried, I mean it, I really did. But, damn… he had somethin’ else. Really somethin’ else goin’ on. He’d…”

Bucky trailed off as he thought about it, his vision blurry, memory hazy. He recalled vague sounds, almost as if in a dream. And he could fathom Steve’s flushed cheeks, his hitching breath, hands tugging at Bucky’s hair like he was hungry, desperate.

“It was confusing as hell,” he finally whispered. “I wanted him, too. I want him now. But it ain’t the same thing. I know, when I look at him, I don’t see— I just don’t, I _can’t_ —“

“It’s all right, Bucky.”

He realized he’d moved his hands in front of his face. He snapped them back down, mortified.

“You can tell me. What don’t you feel?” Something in her feather voice had settled, now. Bucky got the somewhat uneasy and somewhat comforting feeling that her gaze knew him better than he did.

He tried again. “Like I said. It’s not that he ain’t handsome. Or any other fella, for that matter. And girls, too, like I’m sayin’, I don’t really care. Near everyone’s got something about them that’s pretty. Some, more’n others.”

“I think I understand.”

“But… but that’s all.” Bucky gulped. Shit, he hadn’t said this to anyone but Steve, and now he was spilling his guts to a practical stranger— a stranger whom he’d shot. It was fucking pathetic. “… That’s it. When I look at him, I don’t… there’s nothing physical. Special. I mean, I don’t have an issue with— with anything more, if that’s what he wants, but I…. It just wasn’t _there_ for me the way it is for him. It just isn’t.”

Natasha took a deep breath. She stood up slowly, and gingerly perched on the edge of the table. “Bucky?”

He met her glance out of the corner of his eye. Said nothing.

“I’d like to tell you something about myself now, if that’s all right.” She placed her hands in her pockets and leveled her gaze. “I’m an asexual.”

He frowned. A what?

“This means that I don’t experience sexual attraction.”

_Oh._

“When I look at someone,” she continued, “I can see their beauty, yes. I think Wanda is beautiful. I think Clint is beautiful. But that’s where it stops for me.” She paused to breathe deeply again, and Bucky got the feeling this was more intimate than she’d like to admit. “Some asexuals have a drive, and different people are okay with different things. But there’s no individual desire there. Do you understand what I mean?”

Bucky was staring at her somewhat breathlessly. He felt like he’d been struck.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah.” He licked his lips. “Yes, I think I know what you mean.”

She nodded. “Now, as for romance, that’s up to you. Personally, I think I feel the same way about romance as you do about tea. But how you define what you feel is up to you.”

He averted his eyes from her to concentrate on his coffee. It swam in the fluorescent light. _Asexual._ “Fuck, I… I didn’t know there was a word for that. For people like… who felt that way.” _For people like_ me _._ He clenched his teeth against the rising surge he felt deep in his chest.

Natasha smiled gently. “We get that a lot.”

“I think I know why Steve wanted me to talk to you, now.”

“I think so, too.”

“Do you think—“ His eyes widened, darted back up to her. “Do you think he’ll be disappointed in me? I mean—“

She firmly interjected, “He couldn’t be disappointed in you if he tried.”

He nodded. “And what about you?”

Nat laughed. It was a light sound. A good sound. “Me?”

“Are we good?”

“A truce will suffice.”

“A truce?”

“A truce.”


End file.
